Page 117 of Tears of Gold

“I shall relish it.”

“You mean you are going to rule the playground because all of the other mothers will be scared of your ink.”

“Well there is that in my favour.” Now isn’t the time to tell her about what Francine the counsellor said to me yesterday. Or of my evening of self-discovery as I sat and read all my ink as one long story for the first time in my life. “Anyway, Elijah broke up with me again,” I say, surprisingly bright.

“Again?! I wish I could lose weight as often as he dumps you.”

“Thank you as always for your support.”

“You aren’t crying or abusing anyone. What’s going on?”

I’m serious for a moment and Abi stops fussing about packing lunch boxes and watches me. “I’m trying to sort myself out. I know I’ve been running, not just literally but from myself, too.”

“I’m pleased to hear that.”

I smile and she smiles and there’s a whole lot of smiling.

“Also, UK Vogue have left me a voicemail. They want me to do an interview.”

Her mouth hangs open. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well the message said I was an icon of an age, riding from a bad youth and achieving so much with my wild art.” I wait for the best bit. “Apparently Jennifer Fairclough gave them my contact details.”

“Wow.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“So, are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Why!! You mental nutcase… it’s VOGUE!”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure at the moment I’m a good example of a role model.”

Abi shakes her head and shoots me a shit stare. “When will you see yourself how I see you, how Dan sees you? Eli…”

“I went to see a counsellor yesterday.”

Abi can’t school her surprise. “And?”

“And she thinks that I hide beneath my ink. It looks like armour but it’s more deflection.”

“Shit, Faith, I hope you didn’t pay her for that. I could have told you that years ago.”

“And she thinks I blame myself for what Aiden did. That I’m self-sabotaging by telling myself I let it happen because subconsciously I was desperate for affection.”

“Is that what you think? Do you think you let him?”

I hate the tear that escapes. I don’t want to cry anymore. “I didn’t tell you what happened. I got pregnant and I tried to abort the baby myself. Dan found me and got me to the hospital. I’m sorry. I’ve kept it a secret for so long, but I was ashamed.”

“What were you ashamed of?” Her voice is a whisper.

I speak the truth. It flows from me, unhindered. “That I’d let him put a baby inside me. A disgusting, vile baby borne out of despair and violence.”

“Fuck, Faith.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”